The Woman Of Many Faces: Damien Rice

Friday, 15 April 2011

Damien Rice

We might live like never before

When there's nothing to give

Well how can we ask for more

We might make love in some sacred place

The look on your face is delicate

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"we felt the lonely beauty of the evening, the immense roaring silence of the wind, the tenuousness of our tie to all below. there was a hint of fear, not for our lives, not of a vast unknown which pressed in upon us. a fleeting feeling of disappointment- that after all those dreams and questions this was only a mountain top- gave way to suspicion that maybe there was something more, something beyond the three dimensional form of the moment. if only it could be perceived."
— Thomas F. Hornbein

Brighteyes - Nothing gets crossed out

The future has got me worried, such awful thoughts.
My head is a carousel of pictures.
The spinning never stops.
I just want someone to walk in front
and I'll follow the leader.
Like when I fell under the weight of a schoolboy crush.
Started carrying her books and doing lots of drugs.

I almost forgot who I was,
but came to my senses.
Now I'm tryin' to be assertive.
I'm making plans.
Wanna rise to the occasion

yeah, meet all of their demands.
But all I do is just lay in bed
and hide under the covers.
I know I should be brave
but I'm just too afraid of all this change.
And it's too hard to focus through all this doubt.
I keep making these "To Do" lists but nothing gets crossed out.
Working on the record seems pointless now.
When the world ends, who's gonna hear it?
But Im tryin' and take some comfort in written words,
yeah Tim I heard your album and it's better than good.
When you get off tour I think we should hang and black out together.
Because I've been feeling sentimental for days gone by...
all those summers singing, drinking, laughing, wasting our time.
Remember all those songs and the way we smiled
in those basements made of music.
But now I've got to crawl, to get anywhere at all.

I'm not as strong as I thought.
So when I'm lost in a crowd,
I hope that you'll pick me out.
Oh, how I long to be found.
The grass grew high. I laid down.
Now I wait for a hand to lift me up, help me stand.
I have been laying so low
Don't want to lay here no more.
But if everything that happens is supposed to be
and it is predetermined, can't change your destiny.
Then I guess I'll just keep moving,

someday,

maybe,

I'll get to where I'm going.